Hammer of the Nameless
by Datau
Summary: Aurelian Crusade, first year. The Blood Ravens have achieved a great victory on the icy plains of Aurelia against the Great Enemy, but the cost was high. Gabriel Angelos has just learned that a certain Force Commander has been severely wounded and is about to die soon. But can the Captain of the Watch finally discover the Nameless' identity, before it is too late?


**Hammer of the Nameless:**

It was all over. They had won. Despite all odds, the Blood Ravens had achieved a decisive victory against the Black Legion, severely weakening their already broken command structure in the process. Their leader Eliphas the Inheritor was dead; Ulkair, the greater daemon of Nurgle that had formed an alliance with the former Black Apostle had been defeated, his foul essence sealed into Aurelia's core once again, at least for the time being.

Gabriel Angelos, who had seen and fought too many daemons from the Warp for his liking, gave off a visible sigh of relief. He was well aware that Ulkair would have eventually come back one day, to exact revenge on those who banished him from the Materium; he also knew to be on his list of top priority targets, being the man who ultimately lead to his imprisonment on a desolate ball of ice for the following centuries; he simply refused to let this thought compromise his judgment.

He had far more urgent things at hand that required his full attention: first of all, his strike force had suffered heavy casualties in the previous battle; several of his veteran squads were now severely undermanned, others had been completely annihilated. Recovering from such painful losses would have taken decades, and for the Blood Ravens, time was a precious luxury not to be wasted. To make things worse, the commanding officer of the Tenth Company, a skilled fighter and one of his most loyal friends, had apparently suffered grave injuries in the fight against Ulkair, and was now in a desperate condition, if he wasn't already dead.

Gabriel did not knew how severe his wounds were, but as soon as a certain Scout Sergeant gave him such dire news through his Vox channel, he immediately assumed the worst had happened: Cyrus might not have been an Apothecary, but he was still a Deathwatch veteran, he knew a desperate case when he saw one. He thought that Gabriel might have wanted to pay homage to his fallen friend, and he agreed to lead him to his soon-to-be tomb.

"Gabriel." A low, particularly harsh voice that came out of nowhere informally greeted his Captain at the rendez-vous point. An overzealous Imperial Guard officer would have been disconcerted by Cyrus's apparent lack of respect for a superior officer, but Cyrus was a highly valued Scout Sergeant, a Space Marine who favoured solitude over the company of his own brothers. A wise Captain like Gabriel was would have neglected his lack of some proper manners, cutting him far more slack than for anyone else in the Chapter.

"Greetings Cyrus, glad to see you made it. Show me the way, so that I may honor him as he deserves." The two Space Marines began walking, smashing Aurelia's permafrost with their heavy armored boots. "He is about five kilometers from here, direction north-east. But there is no need for directions, really: just follow the stench of vomit, blood and shit."

Perplexed, the Captain of the Third Company took a sniff at the cold air, then he wished he hadn't. "Ugh! It's disgusting: I can feel Ulkair's foul smell from kilometers! If Librarian Jonah Orion hadn't assured me otherwise, I would have presumed that monstrosity to be still among us." The Scout Sergeant grinned, and Gabriel Angelos, resisting an inappropriate impulse to puke, wisely deactivated the smell receptors inside his nose.

"I need to know how he obtained such grievous wounds."

"Well, to cut a long story short, our Force Commander valiantly fought with Ulkair in mêlée with his trusty war hammer, as the rest of our strike force hit it from afar. Not the smartest move if you ask me, nevertheless he managed to keep it busy enough from retaliating. That's when everything went wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"That thing was incredibly resistant: it took us a lot of time and firepower to bring it down. When that eventually happened…well, nobody expected it's death to be so spectacular. At first Ulkair began laughing like a maniac; we foolishly stood still, unsure about what it was aiming at. One second later, it bent down towards us and exploded on our faces, covering at least fifty meters with its rotten guts. Needless to say, our Force Commander took the worst of it. And when we approached him…let's just say his wounds were not of the kind one can heal from."

Gabriel nodded gravely. "I see. In other words, not only I am about to lose an old friend, but his gene-seed is also impossible to recover, having being irreparably damaged." "Precisely. The only thing still relatively intact is his war hammer. It might be in need of some cleaning, though. What a waste."

"Indeed. You want to know something funny, Cyrus? Despite knowing your Force Commander for over a year, I have never managed to grasp his name. It might had something to do with him being a man of few words." After over two centuries of flawless service, Cyrus never thought that something capable of surprising him still existed, but apparently Gabriel had found an exception. "You are not alone, then. That man's name is still a mystery since when he joined us."

This time it was Gabriel's turn to be surprised. "What? How is that even possible?" "Nobody knows. His name is not written on any of our recorded documents, nor he has ever signed one with his personal signature. Nobody in our veteran squads remembers him, and he never mentioned with whom he studied with. Simply put, that man doesn't exist, Gabriel: it has already become some sort of an inside joke within the Tenth Company, that we are led by a Nameless."

Gabriel remained quiet, unsure how to behave. Before he managed to find some appropriate words, he glimpsed several gigantic men clad in red and gold armors, forming a small circle around something on the ground. An even bigger machine towered over them, constantly emitting smoke into the cold air from its twin exhaust pipes on its back.

An overzealous Sergeant among them must have noticed him, because he immediately called his men to order. "Tenth Company! Attention!" Gabriel already knew who it was. "At ease, Tarkus. Spare your esteem for someone more worthy than me." The Tactical Sergeant nodded with gratefulness, catching Gabriel's reference to his commanding officer.

The Captain of the Watch effortlessly passed through the small clustering, as his battle brothers let him pass to mourn their fallen Force Commander with them; Gabriel bent on his knees with deference at his presence, mentally confirming his worst fears as he examined his dying body, or at least, what was left of it. Ulkair's acidic bile had devastated the Force Commander's armor, irreparably ruining all its engravings and purity seals. Even worse, on some parts there was no armor left at all, having been completely corroded by foul gastric juices; only rotten flesh covered in a disgusting vomit-like pus remained.

Had those been the Force Commander's only wounds, he might have still survived with an impressive collection of scars on his body, but that sprout had unfortunately also reached his head and throat, sealing his death sentence. His fabulous chestnut-brown hair, one of his most famous distinctive traits, was now forever gone, replaced by hideous third degree burns. The rest of his face was in an even worse condition.

"Brother, can you hear me?" Gabriel asked at his subaltern's left ear, the one with no rotten meat attached on. A low whisper answered him. "Cyrus…Is that…you?" "Do not exert yourself any further brother, you have already gone far beyond the mere fulfillment of your duty. As for your question: I am Gabriel Angelos, Captain of the Watch and of the Third Company; your brothers and I are here to keep you company."

"Have we…won?" "We have achieved a great victory against the Great Enemy, thanks in no small part to you. During this victorious campaign we have also recovered several priceless relics belonging to our Chapter, that we had long thought lost." The fact that none of said relics was actually of Blood Raven's origin was merely a coincidence. "Well then, you should...be ashamed of yourself...Gabriel..." the Force Commander answered him back, alluding to a well-known joke among the Blood Ravens "Because...I have outsmarted you all...I...I have stolen your victory!"

"Praised be the Emperor, you do actually have a sense of humor! Who among us would have ever guessed?" Gabriel replied him mildly surprised, as several veteran Marines tried their best not to sneer inappropriately. "I am glad to see you so cheerful, brother. That reminds me, tell me your name, so that it might be recorded into our chapter's annals, among our most glorious heroes." Blood gushed from his devastated throat, as the Force Commander weakly attempted to smile. Nobody there had ever suspected he was capable of something like that.

"I see that…my reputation…proceeds me…" He murmured with a hint of irony. "...very well, then… I shall…indulge you…" He hesitated for a moment, as he cleared his throat from the blood that was suffocating him. The small circle surrounding him tightened, as if all the Space Marines couldn't believe their luck. "My name…" He began, coughing out blood from his mouth. His brothers waited with a mixture of patience and curiosity. "my name…is…aaargh…" And he died.

His sudden death left the Space Marines frozen in wonder, until an over excited one loudly expressed his feelings. "Commander?! Commander! You cannot die on us, at least not like this!" Tarkus's voice was emotional but firm. "Let him go, Thaddeus. He's in the Emperor's hands now. Be thankful to him for…well, everything." Gabriel lowered his head in respect of the dead, muttering prayers for his lost friend. His battle brothers followed his example. Even the usually stoic Cyrus briefly betrayed a hint of sadness.

They prayed together and they singed, the heavy wind spreading out their guttural voices in the frozen plains. When they finished, Gabriel Angelos collected his war hammer and took the floor. "Brothers, forgetting to honor our fallen would be a great wrongdoing towards them, but forgetting our holy duties towards the immortal Emperor would be an ever greater offense. We'll have time to mourn our dead more adequately, but now there is much to be done."

He addressed to the lone Dreadnought: "Davian Thule, my old friend, let not the filth from the Warp consume his martyred body. Instead, purge it with your purifying holy flames, that it may shine forever like his faith did!" "As. You. Wish. Gabriel." And he activated his wrist mounted heavy flamer. The Space Marines nodded in approval, and waited for the fire to go out. As soon as the last ember died, they turned their backs from the mortal remains of the Nameless, and began their slow march towards their chapel-barracks.


End file.
